Late Night Shower
by joviality
Summary: [Completed] Late night shower, Ginny in a towel, Harry's nightmares, HG hug, wild and beautiful flaming red hair, and some Ron inserts too.
1. Ginny's POV

Title: Late Night Shower  
Pairing: Harry/Ginny  
Rating: PG to be safe  
Summary: Late night shower, Ginny in a towel, Harry's nightmare, H/G hug, wild and beautifulflaming redhair, and some Ron inserts too.  
Categories: Fluff, Romance, slight Humour  
Disclaimer: JKR owns HP, I only own this mindless plot.

A/N: I haven't been writing for awhile, my muse is hiding from me, sigh. I wrote this some time ago but neverhad the chance to post it, so here it is. Reviews are always welcome but flames always hurt… And a very big thank you to all my reviewers, you encourage and inspire me greatly smiles

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**Part I: Ginny's POV**

She always enjoyed her late night showers. Okay, perhaps not always, but ever since that dreadful first year in Hogwarts, she needed a long andcold shower to keep herself from certain nightmares. Soon after that, late night showers became an indulgence and there was no way she would miss it before turning in. Tonight at The Burrow was no exception.

Wrapped in nothing except a towel which hung to her mid-thigh, she exited the bathroom. In the day, she would have covered herself in her bathrobe given that Harry Potter, her brother's best friend, was over to stay for the summer. However, Ginny Weasley did not think that Harry would be walking around the house at midnight. She was very wrong.

"Oompf."

The next moment Ginny opened her eyes, Harry was lying beneath her, with only her towel and Harry's t-shirt between them. She blinked once, twice. Harry was still there, emerald green eyes shining brightly, cheeks turning into a shade of flaming red. When he next spoke, his voice shattered whatever thought she was having that this might just be a perfect dream.

"Ginny? Er, sorry, I didn't see you out here. Do you mind... You're, er, I can't really breath..." It was a full three seconds before she registered what he was talking about and pulled herself onto her feet, realising that she had nearly took the breathe of Harry away, literally.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to..." Both of them stared at each other, not knowing what to say and turned their heads towards the floor. If Ron were to see the two of them at that moment (without noticing what Ginny is wearing, or not wearing in this case), he would have thought that both of them had stolen from the cookie jar, for they were looking as if they were 'caught in the act'.

"A-choo."

"You better get changed. Don't catch a cold out here."

Not trusting her voice, Ginny nodded mutely and squeezed past Harry in the narrow corridor to walk as fast as she could to her room. Half an hour later, she found him sitting on the sofa in the living room, staring into the dying fire. One or two years ago, she would be far too embarrassed to even set foot within one mile of Harry. Although she is mortified that she had pinned him beneath her a moment ago, Harry being along the corridor at such an hour was not a good sign. And if there is anything she could do, whether it is to listen or just sit with him, she would put aside her own queasy stomach to help him.

At her footsteps, Harry turned slightly but did not acknowledge her presence. She settled herself into the armchair opposite him.

"Nightmares?" She asked softly.

"Yeah." He replied, still not looking at her.

"You want to talk about it?" She knew that it was a bit out of line to ask him. After all, he never really acknowledged her as his friend, even though they had talked quite a bit last year. However, this Ginny was different from the young blushing girl who had once put her elbow in the butter dish. She has considered Harry as her friend, and friends should be there to help each other.

"There's nothing to talk about. Nothing special, just the same old thing."

"Oh. Well, I think I'll go up to bed then. Sorry to disturb you." She was almost out of her chair when Harry did the last thing she expected. In two long strides, he pulled her into a bone crashing hug. If the chair had not been behind her legs, she would have ended up above him a second time this night. When Harry spoke next, his voice cracked and Ginny could feel his shoulder shaking.

"He wouldn't go away. I can't shut him out." Ginny placed her hands awkwardly on his back, rubbing up and down in an attempt to soothe him.

"Who?" Even though Ginny had a vague idea who this person was, she had to make sure Sirius is not the one Harry was talking about.

"Vo... Voldemort."

"Harry. Harry, listen to me. Maybe you shouldn't try to shut him out. When you try to get his out of your mind, you are in a way thinking of him. You get what I mean? Don't think of him at all. Think of other things: Quidditch, Hogwarts, Ron, Hermione, Snape, or even Divination. Every time you find your thoughts going to him, or anything related, switch path, don't even step there. He isn't worth your thoughts. You understand me?" At these words, Ginny pulled Harry away from her to look into his eyes.

"But... But everything I do revolve around him."

"You're wrong, Harry. Everything you do revolve around you. It is your life, not anyone else. Worst come to worse, you can always take a late night shower." Ginny broke into a small smile, rubbing Harry's tears away with her thumb. Realisation dawned in Harry's eyes.

"Is that why..."

"It started with this reason but it gradually became a nightly indulgence." Ginny grinned and stepped away from him, the moment broken between them. "I think I'm going off to bed, Mum needs me in the kitchen for the entire tomorrow." She gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze before heading out of the room.

"Ginny?"

"Yes?" She turned.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Harry. Anytime."

"And Ginny?"

"Hmm?"

"Your hair looks like the fire. Wild and beautiful." At Harry's compliment, Ginny flashed a last smile at him and climbed up the stairs.

_To be continued…_

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A/N: Thanks for reading, stay tuned for Part II, which will be in Harry's POV. Please review.


	2. Harry's POV

Title: Late Night Shower  
Pairing: Harry/Ginny  
Rating: PG to be safe  
Summary: Late night shower, Ginny in a towel, Harry's nightmares, H/G hug, wild and beautiful flaming red hair, and some Ron inserts too.  
Categories: Fluff, Romance, slight Humour  
Disclaimer: JKR owns HP, I only own this mindless plot.

A/N: I apologise for my very late update. I just want to tell my reviewers, people who added me in their favourite authors list, people who care when I'm going to update and also my readers; that I love you all. You bring out my motivation to continue writing. I know that I'm not a great writer and all (with my poor grammar etc), yet you all are there giving time to read my pieces, so I want to say: Thank you, very much. I'm sorry to say that this chapter is un-betaed again but I've looked through it at least 3 times, so I hope that any mistakes won't be glaringly obvious.

**Part II: Harry's POV**

_"Harry Potter... The cursed one. All your loved ones had died in my hands, hahahahaha. They hate you for causing their deaths. They hate you... They hate you... They hate you!"_

Harry jerked and sat up, his forehead wet with perspiration. He was surprised and glad that he had not wakened the entire Weasley household with his earlier thrashing in bed. Fortunately, he had come round before he started screaming, the last thing he wanted would be Mrs Weasley fussing over him in the middle of the night. The dream had come almost every night and fussing would not prevent it. He was debating whether to wake Ron up to soothe his own nerves before remembering he was staying in Percy's room. Come to think of it, even if he were to be in Ron's room, he would need a lion's roar to wake the heavy sleeper. With his breathe finally catching up, he decided to go to the kitchen for a mug of hot cocoa. He had learnt from Lupin that chocolate calms one's nerve. Lupin, Sirius... He shook his head and walked out of his room.

The next moment he knew, he was lying on the wood floor some distance away from his door, with Ginny sprawled on top of him. And it was a Ginny who was wrapped only in a _towel_, some part of his brain wittily commented as Harry took in the sight above his body. Her eyes were closed with her hair falling in wet curls onto her shoulders. Water droplets were dripping off her face onto him. Harry did not know why he did it but in these few short seconds, he counted her freckles. Eleven freckles on her nose. He never had the thought of counting Ron's freckles before. Ron. He froze. Ginny blinked. What would Ron say if he sees them like this? His cheeks burnt.

"Ginny? Er, sorry, I didn't see you out here. Do you mind... You're, er, I can't really breathe..." All previous thoughts of Voldemort by this time had vanished into thin air the way Snape used to empty Harry's potion cauldron.

All the rest happened in a blur and before Harry could take in what he was doing, he was sitting on the sofa, staring at the dying fire in the living room. The fire was crackling, flames dancing wildly and beautifully. The flames faded in his mind eye, reappearing as hair; red, wet, wild and beautiful hair. He shook his head. He had no idea why he had visualised Ginny Weasley's hair. He did not even look at Ron's hair that way! And they are all red, aren't they? _Like the setting sun._ Argh. Ron's hair is not like the setting sun! _But Ginny's hair is_, another voice in his mind spoke.

"I'm going mental." He spoke into the still air around him. He should not be thinking about Ginny but the image of her wrapped in a towel kept popping into his mind. 'Voldemort. Harry, Voldemort.' He reminded himself. He could not afford to have anymore loved ones; they would be killed by Voldemort. Loved one? Where did that come from? A few moments later however, Voldemort did fill his thoughts. He was almost into his "wallowing in self-pity and guilt" mode when Ginny's footsteps alerted him to her presence. A sudden image of Ginny lying seemingly dead in the Chamber of Secrets came into his mind. He inwardly shivered.

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah." '_And thinking about what harm I'll bring to you if you get too close to me_', Harry thought to himself.

"You want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about. Nothing special, just the same old thing." '_I'm just worried about how all my loved ones will die. He just won't let me off. He just wouldn't let you off…_' Instead of saying the later part of the sentence, he was suddenly alarmed by how much he would miss her if something ever happen to her. True, she was not as close to him as compared to Ron or Hermione. But with her, it was different. Much that he insisted that it was pure luck that he managed to save her in his second year; he had been replaying the incident in his mind during this summer break, after Ginny had reminded him of it last year. He would not want any harm to come to her again. In a way, it was his 'saving-people-thing', but in another way which Harry did not really understand, it had pained him to see her lying there on the floor. A vibrant girl like her, as she had shown herself to be, should never be lying on that cold, hard floor. No one should suffer like that.

Ginny's next statement sounded sad. And before Harry could register what she had spoken, she had risen from the armchair. He tried to stop her, but no sound came out from his mouth. He did the first thing that came into his mind. He crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her and tried to force the image of her unconscious form away. Voldemort and his latest nightmare came to him instead. The next thing he knew, he was sobbing into Ginny's shoulders. With random dreadful images flying across his mind, he finally broke down in front of someone.

At one o'clock in the morning, Harry was lying once again on his bed, thinking about what had happened in the past one hour. A large burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Even though he had been slightly embarrassed about breaking down emotionally in front of Ginny, the thought of her understanding relieved him. He also found it hard to believe that he had actually complimented her hair like that. He blushed and with a smile, he drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

That night, he dreamt of wild, beautiful hair and perhaps a towel or two too.

_Fin._

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading it. Review, please?


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